Don't Touch Me
by odieotie
Summary: "Wait- are you guys fighting? Oh my God, what is that even like?" Spock and Uhura have a little argument after the volcano incident. Sometimes it can be hard dating a Vulcan. Spock/Uhura angst
1. We Need to Talk

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek

**Author's Note: Yay, first Star Trek fanfic! This is inspired by the little conversation Kirk and Uhura had in the elevator in Into Darkness (so if you haven't seen it yet, might not want to read because there are a few spoilers from the beginning of the movie). I might add on, we'll see **** Feel free to comment/review, I always love feedback!**

**Live Long and Prosper!**

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Lieutenant Uhura sat poised on the edge of the plush chair in Commander Spock's quarters. She knew that it would take time for the first officer to return tonight, he was probably still arguing about the Prime Directive with Kirk. The thought made fresh tears come to her eyes, but she refused to let them fall, blinking them away instead.

The events of the day still had the petite woman shaken up, although she wouldn't admit it. Her heart had dropped into her stomach when she heard the snap of the cable that had been holding Spock above the volcano, and had remained there until the Captain had informed her that he was safely aboard the Enterprise. She still felt queasy remembering those tense moments, everything that could have gone wrong.

The quiet swish of the doors opening made Uhura come out of her trance. Spock looked almost surprised, if it were possible for a Vulcan to truly be surprised, when he noticed her still awake. He thought it odd, as humans often needed on average nine hours of sleep in order to function properly, and more often than not he found Nyota sleeping in the bed when he returned from his longer nights on the Bridge.

"Nyota," he half-whispered, the more human side of his genetics coming through as he spoke her name with a touch of reverence. "It was not necessary for you to stay up and wait for me," he commented, starting towards the woman he shared a bed with at night.

"No, Spock, I think it was," Uhura whispered, strain evident in her voice. The Vulcan stopped in his tracks, one of his eyebrows lifting.

"Your voice indicates that you are not happy," he observed, trying to deduce exactly what it was that had Uhura upset.

"That is correct," she replied, eyes staring somewhere off into the distance instead of at Spock.

"Perhaps if you could clarify what exactly is bothering you, I-"

"Is there nothing about today that you want to talk about, Spock?" Uhura asked, eyes finally meeting his own. Her tone was rather accusatory, and Spock was certain that if he were fully human he would have felt uncomfortable in the situation.

"I do not believe there was anything in particular that needed to be discussed about today's events," he commented, still puzzled as to Nyota's cross tone.

"_Nothing in particular_?" Uhura's voice was steadily rising. "You don't think we need to talk about the fact that you were almost killed today? That you were stuck in a flaming volcano and you didn't want to be saved just because of the stupid rulebook?" Uhura was practically yelling.

"That is what you are concerned about, Nyota? I do not understand why you are so upset. Every day we are subjected to the possibility of death and we must accept this as part of the job. Besides, I am not dead but quite alive," Spock analyzed her previous statement, but drew up with a blank as to why it was something so pressing.

"You don't understand? I was worried about you, Spock, and you just sat there, not feeling anything! You didn't care about what would happen to _me_ if you died!" Uhura's eyes were glassy with the tears that had started to form despite her resolve to stay calm.

"I am afraid I do not comprehend why you are so upset. Perhaps if I…" Spock trailed off, reaching his fingers out to grasp Uhura's hand.

"No." The finality of the statement seemed to surprise Spock, and he quickly drew his fingers away. Uhura was now looking off to the side, focusing on some piece of the unblemished wall.

"Why do you not wish to mind meld?" Spock inquired. _It's not that I don't want to_, Uhura thought in her head. The fact of the matter was that she loved when her mind joined with Spock's. At the beginning it had been very sparse and very formal, with Spock placing his fingers gently on the side of Uhura's face where the usual nerves and blood vessels were used to facilitate the easiest meld. It had been overwhelmingly shocking to Uhura the first few times, and on occasion she had even become physically sick as the emotions shared through the link intensified.

However, as she became used to it, they began experimenting with the melding capabilities. They would place the palms of their hands together instead of Spock being the one to initiate contact. Once during a rather passionate kiss, they had been rather startled to feel the presence of one another's mind. At first the bond wasn't as strong with the less conventional ways of connecting their bodies, but it soon grew as they learned the contours of the other's mind.

Now they could communicate simply by lightly brushing the other's skin. The longer the contact the deeper they delved into each other's consciences, but simple messages and emotions could be translated by a mundane tap of a finger. Uhura found it extremely intoxicating; she had never had such an intimate relationship with another being.

Refusing such a thing almost felt like an addict trying to refuse their daily dose of poison. Spock seemed to realize this as well, as he had experienced many a time the pure euphoria Uhura felt just by being able to clearly communicate their deepest thoughts without a single word needed.

Uhura did not wish to admit the true reason for her refusal of Spock's simple gesture. It hurt too much to say out loud, or even acknowledge herself.

"I just think it's best that we talk this out, the old fashioned way. I don't want to argue in our minds, my head hurts," she lied, hoping Spock would not detect it, but she could not meet his gaze.

"Why are you lying to me, Nyota? What is your true reason for not wanting to do something we have done for so long without any physical side effects except pleasure on your part?" Spock asked, forcing her to meet his gaze. _Dammit_, she thought. One of the problems with dating the half-Vulcan was his ability to read right through any fallacy. She met his eyes with her own, but kept her mouth shut. She watched his own eyes skirt over his face, looking for body language indicators as to what might be wrong. Uhura could practically see the gears turning in his head, going through every possible scenario as to why she refused his touch.

After several tense seconds that seemed to last an eternity, realization dawned in his eyes.

"You think I would try and alter your own mindset in order to avoid an argument." For once Uhura could not read the tone of his voice. He seemed to be trying to suppress many emotions, although he couldn't keep them all out of his usual-neutral tone. She looked away, harshly brushing a tear off of her cheek that had managed to escape. Because among all of the other mixed emotions she thought she might have detected in the statement, one she was sure of: pain.

"Nyota, you know I would never-"

"Not on purpose, Spock, but sometimes I can't tell what thoughts are mine and what are yours when we meld, okay? Sometimes I just get lost in yours, and I want to make sure I know what thoughts are mine," she responded, not knowing what else to say.

"You don't trust me." This time, Spock's voice truly was shocked, and he was showing more emotion than Uhura had seen in a while, if ever. She hadn't seen him display pain openly since his home planet was destroyed, a thought that made her throat constrict and burn with sobs that threatened to take over her steely façade.

"I trust _you_, it's myself I don't trust, Spock. I want to stay true to me, and I don't know if I can do that if we meld!" Uhura tried to explain, voice now frustrated.

"I do not follow your logic," Spock replied, furrowing his pointy eyebrows.

"You know what, I can't do this right now!" Uhura yelled, throwing her arms up in exasperation and standing, walking towards the door. _To hell with logic_.

"Nyota!" Spock's voice was raised higher than it usually was, and Uhura was surprised at his outburst of emotion that he was usually so good at keeping under control. He reached out and gently grabbed her arm, begging her to stop. Nyota gave a little gasp of pleasure at the thought that maybe she could feel the presence of his mind, that she could melt into him until they were but one, but quickly reprimanded herself for being so susceptible to his touch before blocking her mind as best as she could, not that Spock was trying to intrude.

"DON'T! TOUCH ME!" she outright yelled this time, forcefully yanking her arm out of his grasp. Spock looked at her, his face a mixing pot of emotions that so rarely surfaced for him; hurt, confusion, surprise, agony.

Tears came to Uhura's eyes once again, and this time she let them spill, plump, hot and heavy, racing down her cheeks and splashing on her crimson Starfleet uniform she had forgotten to change out of.

"I don't want you touching me again until we talk this out," she spat out icily, knowing it would hurt him, not caring anymore. She turned on her heel, and marched through the doors that slid open upon recognizing her presence. Tonight she would sleep in the lonely forgotten quarters she had not visited in months: her own.


	2. Problem

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek

**Author's Note: I'm so sorry that it has taken me so long to update! I was at a dance summer intensive for the past month, so every waking moment was spent at the studio or at home sleeping. **

**That being said, thank you SO much for the amount of support this story has gotten! I'm truly honored! Or honoured. Whichever spelling you like best.**

**This chapter is shorter, I wanted to put a little Spock POV in, but my guess is this will mainly be from Uhura's POV. **

**Feel free to review/comment as always, feedback is greatly appreciated.**

**Thank you once again, for being patient with me and actually reviewing/following etc.**

**LIVE LONG AND PROSPER!**

Spock watched silently as Uhura stormed out of his quarters. A small part of him, no doubt due to his human genetics, wished to run after her. After her reaction to his touch however, he thought it best if he let her go. He had to arrange his thoughts and suppress the emotions that he seemed to not be able to handle around Nyota.

Sinking down into the chair his partner had been occupying before his arrival, Spock rested his elbows on his thighs and carefully placed his fingertips on one another. Hunching slightly forward, he allowed his chin to rest on his thumbs. The motion was almost subconscious; Spock would often sit in a similar fashion when he wanted to ponder anything from the illogical human brain to the _Enterprise_'s most recent fiasco. This time he was more disjointed than usual though, as he realized that this had been his first real fight with Lieutenant Uhura. They had had small quarrels and spats, but she had never stormed away before.

Taking a breath, he decided to do the only thing he knew would be productive: use logic. He clamped down on the region of his brain where emotions ran amok, cutting them off as he had earlier in the day in the middle of the volcano. He managed to do it, but with more difficulty than previously. He had been frazzled, there was no denying it. Now he just had to rein it in.

Turning his thoughts to the cause of the argument, Spock replayed the significant points in his head...

"_You don't think we need to talk about the fact that you were almost killed today?"_

"_I was worried about you, Spock, and you just sat there, not feeling anything!"_

_"I trust__you__, it's myself I don't trust, Spock. I want to stay true to me, and I don't know if I can do that if we meld!"_

Her voice infiltrated his thoughts, and he could practically taste her anger, her pain. Images of her face contorting, shifting from rage to sorrow in mere seconds, flashed through his mind. Repressing a new wave emotions that attempted to overwhelm him like a surge of bile in the back of his throat, Spock reminded himself once again to focus just on the facts.

Uhura disliked the fact that Spock was not concerned about his near-death experience and had no desire to discuss it with Uhura.

Uhura was upset that Spock chose to not feel emotions upon the realization of his presumably inevitable death.

Uhura wanted to talk rather than meld because she believed Spock might (inadvertently or not) change her opinion.

With these three facts, Spock knew he would have a late night trying to determine the best scenario that would yield the most results. The wild variable, Nyota, made it so his calculations would surely have some percent error. The thought was bittersweet, his frustration at the unpredictability of humans-especially women- mixing with his fascination of Nyota's spontaneity. She was his little enigma, a puzzle to solve, and with each triumph, twenty new problems arose.

Realizing his thoughts had once again drifted away from the allocated issue, Spock silently reprimanded himself and got to work on finding the best solution to his current problem.


	3. Not Drunk, Wasted

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek

**Author's Note: Once again, thank you so much! I'm honored (honoured) by the reception this story has gotten, what I expected to be a one-shot now has at least a few more chapters up its sleeve!**

**Trigger warning: mentions of binge drinking this chapter. I do not suggest binge drinking, even if you get into a fight with a significant other. It's dangerous.**

**I brought in a little special someone this chapter. Bones is one of my favorite Star Trek character, TOS and Reboot. Love him love him LOVE HIM **

**Please continue to comment/review, I love getting feedback and hearing what y'all think!**

**Live Long and Prosper!**

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Uhura woke up alone and cold, curled up into a little ball. Starfleet-issued sheets were messily strewn every which way on the bed. It didn't take a famous fictional British detective to deduce her night hadn't gone well. Bleary eyed, she pushed the bed away to come to a sitting position.

Immediately the world began to spin and whirl, making Nyota more and more nauseous by the second. Stumbling through the blurry world, she barely felt her way to the bathroom and the metal rim of the toilet before her dinner raced up her throat and spilled itself inside the bowl. Uhura groaned, her throat burning from the stomach acid. The automatic lights were _way_ too bright for six in the morning, and Uhura swore that someone was hitting her head repeatedly with a really hard hammer.

She had almost forgotten what hangovers felt like.

After retching up her lunch and dry vomiting three times, Uhura finally felt safe enough to crawl away from her position at the toilet seat and haul herself up next to the comm unit.

"Lieutenant Uhura to Med Bay," she croaked out, her throat screaming at her to shut up and drink water, while her stomach begged for something to digest. She closed her eyes, attempting to block out the blinding light.

"Bones here, what the hell do you need at six in the morning?" Bones demanded, anger and tinges of sleep in his voice. Uhura felt a little bad, she knew the doctor valued his sleep, as most nights it was difficult for him to get any. Patients didn't get to choose when they needed to visit the med bay.

"Do you have anything to cure a hangover?" Uhura asked, trying to not let the desperation ebb into her voice or feel too embarrassed at admitting she had a hangover. There was a laugh at the other end of the wall communicator.

"Uhura, do you even drink?" The voice sounded way too amused for Uhura's taste.

"I had a fight with Spock," she replied, the bitter taste of alcohol seeping into her voice.

"Oh." There was silence on the other end. Uhura groaned before her esophagus attempted to empty her cavernous stomach once again, accidentally leaning against the comm button in the process. After a few more tries from her throat to get rid of the nonexistent poison, she leaned against the wall, ready to accept defeat.

"How drunk did you get, Uhura?" Bones asked, concern evident in his voice.

"I tried to fight with a Vulcan, Bones. I didn't get drunk. I got wasted."

"I'm on my way to your room. Wait- that's Spock's room. Remind me where your quarters are."

Uhura groaned, remembering what she had spent the night trying to wash away, before giving McCoy directions to where she was practically lying in a heap on the floor.

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"You know, you really shouldn't drink so much. Your body isn't made to handle this amount of alcohol, Uhura," Bones reprimanded, but gave her a small smile when she looked up at him. "I'm just glad you called."

Uhura wasn't big on binge drinking, usually because on the few occasions she had gone overboard with the alcohol she woke up feeling awful in the morning. However, last night she had gotten it into her head that drinking herself silly would solve her problems rather than create new ones.

"Thanks a ton, Bones. I'm sorry to wake you up, I just felt awful." Uhura felt awful for more than one reason.

"Not a problem." An awkward silence seeped into the room, making the elephant in the room more and more prominent. The two were sitting on Uhura's messy bed, which had been where Bones had found Uhura when he arrived, although at the time she was lying down and trying to block out the light. She felt much better physically now, although now that she wasn't worried about her headache it was much too easy for the mental pain to return.

"So what did that green-blooded, emotionless bastard say to make you waste yourself?" Bones asked, trying to meet Uhura's eyes, although they were already looking at the boring walls.

Uhura sighed. She knew the question would come up sooner or later, and she felt the need to answer when it did. After all, not only was this man her friend, but he had just helped her out of a horrible hangover.

"He didn't want to talk about the fact that he didn't care whether or not he died, and I did," Uhura replied, angry at herself to realize she had tears in her blurring her vision once again. She thought she had bled her eyes dry last night, considering how many tissues she had gone through. Apparently not.

"Well, if you want a coping mechanism, I have a list of insults for the pointy-eared hobgoblin, if you want to borrow it," McCoy offered. Uhura let one side of her mouth turn up in a small smile, although it didn't reach her eyes. Bones was a great friend, and had a great sense of humor. She was sure just spending ten minutes with him would be a good coping mechanism, but she wasn't sure she was ready to start truly coping yet. She could hide pain almost too well when she needed to.

"Thanks, Bones, but I think I'm good for now," Uhura replied, squeezing his hands as if trying to reassure him she was okay, even if she was the exact opposite. Bones seemed hesitant, but squeezed her hand back.

"Well good, 'cause I'm a doctor, not a psychiatrist. But just let me know if you need anything, okay?" Uhura nodded, glad to have someone to confide in.

"Alright, well I had better head back to the med bay, I have an angry Russian strapped down in a cot," Bones said, getting up to leave.

"Of course. Thank you Bones. Oh, and one more thing. If you tell anyone, especially Kirk, you'll be the one in a med bay cot."

Bones mimed zipping his lips, giving a loopy grin despite the threat, before disappearing through the door.

Uhura gave a little smile before standing up and getting ready to face the day, and a frustrating half-Vulcan.


End file.
